


Night Off

by trajektoria



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Alcohol, Bar Fight, Crack, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Fluff and Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 22:19:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10626282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trajektoria/pseuds/trajektoria
Summary: “What the fuck did you just fucking say about the Charlatan, you little bitch?” Scott said nonchalantly. “I’ll have you know that I graduated top of my class in the Alliance, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on the kett bases, and I have over 1789 confirmed kills.”No one insults the Charlatan in Scott's presence. Especially when the Pathfinder is totally wasted.I don't know if this qualifies as crack, but it came close. Default Scott Ryder.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to [kadarakings](https://kadarakings.tumblr.com/) and [captainjennhart](http://captainjennhart.tumblr.com/) for beta'ing the fic! Seeping/Sipping, dishonor on me, dishonor on my cow...

The galaxy, in all its might and splendor, has a few universal, unchanging truths that help to ground people and let them make sense of reality. Like 'water freezes at 32 degrees Fahrenheit' or 'night follows day' and such. Things that are true without exceptions and bring comfort in their stability.

Reyes Vidal had half a mind to add another golden rule to the set – Scott Ryder couldn't hold his liquor _for shit_.

For the last hour or so, since they came to Kralla's Song to grab something to drink and generally have a good time, Reyes had observed his lover's declining state. After one beer, everything was fine. After two, Scott's eyes began to glisten feverishly. After three, his cheeks flushed pink and a mindless grin crept up on his face, making him look almost like a teenager, which was quite adorable, if Reyes had to be honest. The shot of Kadara-brewed moonshine that followed right after turned Scott's knees wobbly, and he'd probably have crashed down to the floor if it weren't for the counter, to which he clung as if it were a lifeline. Umi looked at him disdainfully, clearly unimpressed, although that was her usual expression anyway.

“Maybe we should head back?” asked Reyes, slowly sipping his beer. Sixth one now and all he felt was a slight, pleasant buzzing in his head.

“Nah, I'm good.” Scott gave him a loopy smile, his muscles relaxed almost to the point of being limp, gazing at him through his eyelashes. Damn, that man had no idea how effortlessly and cluelessly cute he was. “I’m just getting started!”

“Are you now?” Reyes raised an eyebrow.

“Cheers!” Scott glugged half of his glass of Kadaran beer with gusto. The Charlatan raised his glass at him with a smirk, enjoying his drink with more restraint.

The bar was packed with guests of all genders and races. Some of them swayed energetically on the dance floor, not letting the music get in the way of their dancing. Some just kept to themselves while getting sloshed, some traded secrets and discussed shady businesses – it was Kadara after all – but the majority of the patrons just chatted with their friends, wanting to unwind after a hard day of more or less legitimate work.

One of these bunches stood close to Scott and Reyes – a mixed company in various states of inebriation, at their center a turian who had definitely already had too much of whatever his species used to get shitfaced.

“Hey, you know, what?” he slurred, his avian features twisted into a cheery expression not often seen on turians. “I bet no one knows what the Charlatan looks like because he’s ugly like a Krogan’s ass!”

The drunken giggles from his buddies that followed the jibe were interrupted by the loud thud of a glass slamming against the counter. Everyone in the bar went silent, even the music died down. In his rage, Scott spilled some of the drink on his shirt, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Hold my beer,” he said, shoving the glass into Reyes's hands. Before Reyes could react, Scott turned towards the group, eyes burning with murder. Reyes observed with a mixture of surprise and really bad feelings as his lover approached the drunken turian with a furious expression on his face.

“What the fuck did you just fucking say about the Charlatan, you little bitch?” Scott said nonchalantly. “I’ll have you know that I graduated top of my class in the Alliance, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on the kett bases, and I have over 1789 confirmed kills. I am trained in all kinds of space warfare and I’m the top biotic in the entire Nexus armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before in this galaxy, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit about the Charlatan in my presence? Think again, fucker.”

Reyes rubbed his forehead, muttering “Shit” to himself with fond exasperation.

The friends of the cheeky/suicidal turian shared that sentiment. Various voices rasping a variety of: “It's the Pathfinder, Vidal's plus one, and he's under the protection of the Charlatan, dude, chill, let's just go man” trying to convince him to back down. But the turian, too drunk to make a sensible judgment, was having none of that.

“Yeah, well, fuck you and go fuck the Charlatan because nobody else wants to.”

Reyes managed a deadpan expression, but the vein on Scott's forehead started to pulse at quick, regular intervals.

“Well, that's it,” he said, extending his arms and cracking his knuckles. “You're about to become extinct.”

Reyes gave his lover a warning look.

“Scott, no.”

“Scott, YES!” And with that, all hell broke loose. The Pathfinder's fist colliding with the turian's mandible with a satisfactory crunch was like a signal for all the other patrons to holler guttural shouts of joy and start beating the shit out of their neighbors.

Reyes sighed, finished Scott's beer in one gulp – shame for it to go to waste – and joined the brawl, knowing full well that Scott could handle himself in combat just fine, but still unable to leave his reckless, plastered ass unprotected. Reyes ducked, avoiding a blow from an overzealous salarian and tripping another attacker, making his way slowly to Scott, who was in the thick of it, exchanging taunts and hits with the uncouth turian. Reyes made a mental note to have the Collective whip his ass later for good measure. People shouldn’t go around insulting the Charlatan and remain unpunished. Although, from what Reyes could gather, Scott was defending his honor admirably well.

Punches and kicks seemed to be coming from all directions, all with enthusiasm and varied levels of skill. And what was probably the most remarkable – everyone seemed to be having the time of their lives. Well, it was Kadara after all, people loved themselves some gratuitous violence. At least until Umi’s meagre stores of patience depleted and she threw all the warriors out hard on their asses with her biotic powers, adding new battle scars to the ones they had already obtained.

 

* * *

“Oww,” Scott groaned, pressing the bag of cold medi-gel to the side of his face. A purplish bruise had formed on his cheek and the swelling didn’t look too good either.

“If you can take a punch without complaining, you can suffer good old hydrogen peroxide in silence as well.” There was amusement in Reyes’s voice, but also a hint of worry. Gently, he dabbed at Scott’s split lip with a damp cloth, cleaning the wound. The Pathfinder sat cross-legged on the surprisingly comfortable bed in Reyes’s room, adjacent to the place where he usually hung out at the Tartarus. Reyes had struck a deal with the owner of this joint and rented out a part of the club, practically turning it into his private residence. The music was muffled here to the point of being almost unnoticeable. Quite a feat, considering how loud it was outside. He liked it that way – his own place in the middle of Kadara’s beating heart. That's why he rarely drank here and preferred to let Scott have his fun at the docks. Causing trouble at your doorstep was rarely a good idea.

“Medi-gel doesn’t sting,” retorted Scott, his voice slurring. Judging from his glistening eyes, he was still drunk out of his mind. Reyes hoped that dragging his lover from Kralla’s Song all the way to Tartarus would clear his head, but apparently he wasn’t that lucky. He didn’t even want to imagine the hangover that would plague Scott tomorrow – the very thought was painful. Dealing with three Architects at once would probably feel more soothing.

“Medi-gel is currently doing a better job just being cold and working on the swelling on your face. It would be a shame to see it permanently damaged.”

Scott needed a moment to mentally process that sentence through the mist of alcoholic fumes.

“You’re worried I’ll be ugly?”

“You are incapable of being ugly, Scott, but I do enjoy your face just as it is without any additional bumps or holes, yes.”

Scott broke into a face-splitting grin.

“So you think I’m hot?”

“The hottest,” Reyes replied, causing his lover to blush and erupt into a fit of silly giggles. Okay, his heart melted a little at the sight. He wondered briefly what the people from the Nexus would think, seeing the human Pathfinder in such a state, but the answer could be only one – it was none of their goddamn business. This was for his eyes only, the true, breathing person under all the responsibilities and faith people put on Scott’s shoulders, molding him into some perfect superhero. Damn, that kid deserved a break. And praise too. “What you did in that bar, protecting the Charlatan’s good name, was sweet. Stupid, for sure, but sweet.”

Scott’s whole face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“You think it was sweet?”

“You have selective hearing, haven’t you? I said it was stupid too,” he replied, a smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah, but sweet.”

There was no point in arguing.

“But sweet.” Reyes nodded sagely. “Thank you.”

“No problem. I’ll always fight for you.”

The Charlatan had no doubts that Scott meant it, every word.

“I know,” Reyes said with softness that surprised even himself. But the wonders didn’t cease. It was the Pathfinder’s turn to surprise him.

Scott put the medi-gel bag away, leaned closer and pressed his lips to Reyes’s. The kiss tasted of beer and peroxide, felt sloppy and drunken, but it was enough to start a fire within the Charlatan. And, seeing the playful sparks in Scott’s eyes, he wasn’t the only one who felt it.

“Hey, Reyes, you know what?” Scott said, pressing his finger to his own lips in a faint attempt to stop himself from giggling. The flush on his cheeks only deepened and it took all Reyes's self-control not to kiss him senseless again.

“What?”

“You have a perfect body.”

Reyes blinked.

“I know, but I'm glad you noticed.”

Scott smiled impishly.

“What I mean, is that you should do something with it.”

“Like what?”

“Like put it on me.”

Reyes blinked again, stunned into silence. And then he laughed. Full-bellied laughter that seemed to be coming from his very core.

“That was terrible, Scott.” They exchanged glances, as Reyes's mouth still twitched in amusement. “But I suppose I could do something about your request,” he said, his voice full of mirth. God help him, he really loved this man, possibly more than was decent or considered normal. But then he was never much for normalcy. Nor decency.

Hand on Scott’s face, cupping his uninjured cheek, he kissed him, pouring all his heart into it. He felt the Pathfinder smiling, his lips warm and pliant despite the injury they'd sustained. Again, Reyes noted in his mind to make an example out of that turian who dared to beat Scott up. That was a concern for later, though, for the Charlatan. Now, he wanted to just be Reyes, the man hopelessly in love, about to have sex with his lover. Well, he supposed that Shena could play a role in that too at some point.

Not stopping the kiss, Reyes pushed Scott horizontal on the bed. The Pathfinder’s hands wrapped themselves around his neck, his thighs pressed tightly to the man’s waist. A little moan escaped from the back of Reyes’s throat as he rolled his hips. Things were definitely heating up.

Until they suddenly cooled down to Voeld levels.

The grip on Reyes’s neck loosened significantly. Scott’s lips stopped moving. A deep, rumbling sound rang through the air.

Confused, Reyes lifted his head to take a look at his lover.

His sleeping lover. Scott was dead to the world, his lips parted, letting out loud snores.

Reyes blinked. And then whined.

“Seriously?”

He probably should feel insulted that his lover had passed out in the middle of making out. Or frustrated, at the very least. Okay, he _was_ a little frustrated, the stiffness in his pants reminded him of that. Still, inexplicably, he was touched and happy too. Happy that Scott trusted him enough to get piss drunk in his company and just be himself, consequences be damned. Not a Pathfinder, but a hot-headed buck in desperate need to blow off some steam. Get wasted, stir up some trouble, kiss your lover, go to sleep. And Reyes could give him just that.

Reyes sighed, kissed his forehead and slid off him, deciding to call it a night as well. But before he let himself drift away with his head on Scott’s shoulder, he used his omni-tool to take a photo of the Pathfinder, humanity's last hope – snoring, slobbering, with a swollen black and blue face. And yet, amazingly, still beautiful.

“The hottest,” Reyes muttered with amusement, as he closed his eyes.


End file.
